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Sye Sanders Poem
Thailand,
Or Kensington?
Tinfoil from a Kit-Kat,
Tells you that there’s no difference,
Outside,
Cocaine,
Ammonia,
Old Martell miniature,
A Bic lighter; a mound of ash,
Bangkok?
Fly south
Like Garuda,
Drift off to Koh Samui,
A Beach house, Or Council estate?
Who cares?
Wake up,
Burnt down candles,
Landlord on the doorstep
‘Last weeks rent?’ ‘Giro on Thursday…
…Get lost…’
Copyright © Sye Sanders | Year Posted 2006
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Sye Sanders Poem
Playing crazy golf, eating candy-floss,
Sniffing glue behind the bleachers,
You bang on the side of the transistor,
Suddenly it comes to life; ‘Tupelo Honey’.
You nod your head as you lick the Rizla;
‘I don’t want this summer to end.’
You lay on the grass;
Indian summer burns your eyelids,
So you run down to the water’s edge,
Dip your big toe into the ocean,
Then run back, escaping the tide,
You splash him,
He splashes back,
You laugh,
He laughs back,
‘Man, I don’t want this summer to end.’
You giggle, high on a new drug,
And act like you invented the sunshine,
But now you’re on the train coming home,
Your clothes covered in wet sand,
You do not say a word,
As words would ruin the mood,
You gaze out of the window,
High rise flats like dollhouses,
Pass you by, never to return.
You smile through heavy eyes,
Look at him and whisper;
‘I wonder if we will ever grow out of doing this.’
He takes a photograph of you
When you pretend to be asleep,
Signs it and places it in your pocket,
You open one eye to see if he believes
That you are sleeping, he doesn’t.
Years later,
you open your shoe-box of memories,
Look back at that photograph,
wonder where he ended up,
college or famous?
it did not matter,
you slowly come to realize,
you were never as fat as you thought you were
Copyright © Sye Sanders | Year Posted 2005
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Sye Sanders Poem
You remind me of a Rock Star.
Only without a microphone or drug habit.
You've got that aura of a punk chic persona.
Just as I lean over the album cover to snort another line,
I am surprised that I do not see your face staring back.
In a perfect world;
You'd play guitar and smash up hotel rooms.
Pushing a single strand of red out of your eyes
And tucking it neatly behind your ear,
You lean into me with hugely dilated pupils
And whisper; 'What is with the trainers?'
I shrug my shoulders and mumble; 'It’s an Ibiza thing.'
Clicking the heels on your cowboy boots together in unison,
You mouth the words; 'Pass me a pen.'
'I do not need your name on the side of my trainers
To tell me that you existed this summer,' I reply.
You smile. And I whisper to myself.
'I wonder if she will remember me when she is famous.'
Copyright © Sye Sanders | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Sye Sanders Poem
Whenever I hear,
Frank Sinatra sing ‘My Way’
It’s like you’re with me,
Reminding me that it’s okay,
For a boy to cry sometimes,
Whenever I see,
A sunbeam through my window,
You’re smiling with me,
Making me wonder if you,
Actually went away last year,
Whenever I feel,
As though I can’t carry on,
You’re the gush of wind,
That blows courage into my back,
Telling me not to give in,
When I seek advice,
And you’re not around to guide,
I look to the skies,
As they burst into sunshine,
And it’s like you’re by my side,
Copyright © Sye Sanders | Year Posted 2006
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